thing I have
seen that is not to be traced to the result of the war belongs to a
state of arrested development."

Miss Tewksbury was uncertain whether her niece was giving a new turn to
her drollery, so she merely stared at her; but the young lady seemed to
be serious enough.

"Don't interrupt me, Aunt Harriet. Give me the opportunity you would
give to Dr. Barlow Blade, the trance medium. Everything I see in this
country belongs to a state of arrested development, and it has been
arrested at a most interesting point. It is picturesque. It is colonial.
I am amazed that this fact has not been dwelt on by people who write
about the South."

"The conservatism that prevents progress, or stands in the way of it, is
a crime," said Miss Tewksbury, pressing her thin lips together firmly.
She had once been on the platform in some of the little country towns of
New England, and had made quite a reputation for pith and fluency.

"Ah, dear aunt, that sounds like an extract from a lecture. We can have
progress in some things, but not in others. We have progressed in the
matter of conveniences, comforts, and luxuries, but in what other
directions? Are we any better than the people who lived in the days of
Washington, Jefferson, and Madison? Is the standard of morality any
higher now than it was in the days of the apostles?"

"Don't talk nonsense, Helen," said Miss Tewksbury. "We have a higher
civilization than the apostles witnessed. Morality is progressive."

"Well," said Helen, with a sigh, "it is a pity these people have
discarded shoe-buckles and knee-breeches."

"Your queer notions make me thirsty, child," said Miss Tewksbury,
producing a silver cup from her satchel. "I must get a drink of water."

"Permit me, madam," said a sonorous voice behind them; and a tall
gentleman seized the cup, and bore it away.

"It is the distinguished general!" exclaimed Helen in a tragic whisper,
"and he must have heard our speeches."

"I hope he took them down," said Miss Tewksbury snappishly. "He will
esteem you as a sympathizer."

"Did I say anything ridiculous, Aunt Harriet?"

"Dear me! you must ask your distinguished general," replied Miss
Tewksbury triumphantly.

General Garwood returned with the water, and insisted on fetching more.
Helen observed that he held his hat in his hand, and that his attitude
was one of unstudied deference.

"The conductor tells me, madam," he said, addressing himself to Miss
Tewksbury, "that you